


black and red

by ShirosRedKnight (SweetFanfics)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: I guess? lol, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Royalty AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 07:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8436985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/ShirosRedKnight
Summary: "“Are you sure you want to go through with this? You can still back out if you want too. Allura will understand.”He shakes his head, “I want to do this. I told you at the ball didn’t I? I’ll do anything if it means getting my uncle off the throne. He needs to be stopped before he drags all the entire alliance into his bloody war.”His thumb strokes warm lines into Shiro’s hand, enjoying the simple contact (even though he’d dearly love to have that hand slid under this oppressive waistcoat and shirt of his and touch his skin), “And you?”Shiro shakes his head, a determined gleam in his eyes, “I’m not changing my mind either.”"





	

The younger female attendants giggle as they leave the waiting room, something that makes Duke Shirogane (’ _Shiro_ ,’ Keith reminds himself) and himself exchange an amused little look.

As the door clicks shut, Keith finds his eyes drifting over his husband-to-be’s form. He cuts an impressive figure anyways but dressed up in the traditional Altean groom’s wear? Shiro looks _devastatingly_ handsome. 

The traditional Altean tailcoat has been given a modern cut with its double tipped collar. The deep gold edges highlight the faint silvery sheen of the coat’s material as well as the deep-purple-almost-black color of Shiro’s sleeves and waist coat.

(Silver for Shirogane, gold for Kogane, and almost-black representing his father’s lineage, who had married into the Shirogane line.) 

The waistcoat underneath it, is equal parts silvery-white and almost-black, with a deep double lined V of gold trimming curling around Shiro’s waist. His breeches are a deep gray color, a line of almost-black stitched down the side, showing off his thighs to perfect. 

The same thighs that Keith, only yesterday, had hitched around his hips when they’d managed to sneak away from all the wedding planners, advisers, etc. etc.

“You look very handsome.”

Shiro’s soft compliment makes Keith look down at his own clothes. They’re exactly like Shiro’s suit, with the only difference being his complimenting color to the white and gold was a deep, vibrant red shade. Representing his mother’s house. The only difference between their dressage is that Keith’s breeches are a shade or two darker than Shiro’s and have a line of gold streaking down into his boots.

“As do you,” Keith compliments in return, taking a step closer to the Duke. He smirks a little at Shiro’s fringe, “I see you let them tame your hair.”

Expression immediately turning self-conscious, Shiro raises his hand up to touch the white fringe that’s been tamed into place. “I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter I’m afraid.”

Keith reaches forward to grab Shiro’s hand before he spoils his hairstyle, noting the smooth feel of the other man’s prosthetic arm. Despite it’s nature, it is warm to touch. Keith marvels at how advanced Altean technology is momentarily before speaking, “It suits you.”

Scratching his finger against his cheek, the older man looks bashful as he answers, “I’ll take your word on that.” The expression clears into one of greater concern. “Are you sure you want to go through with this? You can still back out if you want too. Allura will understand.”

He shakes his head, “I want to do this. I told you at the ball didn’t I? I’ll do anything if it means getting my uncle off the throne. He needs to be stopped before he drags all the entire alliance into his bloody war.”

His thumb strokes warm lines into Shiro’s hand, enjoying the simple contact (even though he’d dearly love to have that hand slid under this oppressive waistcoat and shirt of his and touch his skin), “And you?”

Shiro shakes his head, a determined gleam in his eyes, “I’m not changing my mind either.”

If he’s completely honest, Keith still doesn’t get it. Shirogane _has_  to have some other reason for proposing _and_ agreeing to this cockamamie scheme of theirs. What does he stand to gain from marrying Keith? Sure he’s a prince but one without any power. Just a name and a rich heritage, that’s it. 

Keith bites his bottom lip and ponders asking Shiro this again. The last time he’d asked this, Shiro had said he just wanted to help Keith achieve his goal of removing Zarkon from the throne. But Keith feels that’s not the whole story. It can’t be that simple. No one can be _that_  gentle hearted to hear that story and offer their own hand in marriage to help a complete stranger move out of the shadow of their tyrannical uncle.

There’s a knock on the door.

An auburn head peeks in, glasses gleaming, “It’s almost time.” The man says with a crooked grin. “Might want to fix your tie there Shiro.”

Shiro’s head ducks down immediately, scowling at the golden tie that is just a little crooked. He raises a hand to fix it but Keith beats him to the punch, gently tugging it back into place under the crisp meeting point beneath Shiro’s shirt collar.

His fingers trail down Shiro’s chest, enjoying how the silky smooth material and stiff trimmings feel. He tugs the open jacket nervously before peeking up at Shiro, who watches him with hooded eyes. “Aren’t you nervous?” Keith asks.

Blinking, Shiro’s eyes slip away in consideration before coming back to him, “Only a little and only that I may mess up the vows. High Altean is a complicated language.”

That’s true, Keith scrunches his nose up at the reminder. “But you’re not worried about marrying me.”

“No,” Shiro’s hands tug Keith closer using his tailcoat, hands slipping under the material. They’re twin points of distracting heat under his ribs, making it difficult for Keith to pay attention to what Shiro is saying. “I feel like I’ve known you my entire life. Is that odd?”

“Perhaps we met each other in another life.”

The whimsical notion makes them both smile. There’s another knock on the door, more rhythmic and sharp. Both doors are pushed open this time, prompting the pair to take a step apart. Princess Allura sweeps into the room, silver chains glimmering in her hair with every step. Her eyes move from one man to the other, lingering on the linked fingers hanging between them.

“Are you ready?” She asks.

They exchange a look, exchanging questions and answers within heartbeats. Turn as one towards the Altean princess and nod. 


End file.
